


Her Own Pride

by AuthorA97



Series: 52 Stories in 52 Weeks [17]
Category: The Lion King (1994)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 05:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16591733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorA97/pseuds/AuthorA97
Summary: Morgan Spencer travels to Lion King after her first death.





	Her Own Pride

Morgan loved the Lion King.

That’s basically it.

She Planned this trip for two days. She didn’t believe she needed much more than that. She really didn’t. Sitting around instead of doing something was...too much for her.

Sitting around meant thinking.

Thinking meant looking back.

Looking back meant...looking back.

Morgan wasn’t ready for that

She was only 38. Oh, how young that is compared to the Morgan that’s written about so much.

38 was too young.

Yet there Morgan was, Traveling without a friend or a family.

Is it any wonder that she became so messed up later?

 

==HOP==

 

Her life was not the stuff of Disney movies. If it was, it was one of those weird ones that were killed on the drawing room floor.

She had magical powers to put it simply. Could travel from fictional world to fictional world with a nod of her head.

It had bonuses. When she went to these worlds, barely any time passed at home. One of those awful rules that never made sense when you saw it in the movies, like  _ Wizard of Oz _ or in  _ Nutcracker _ . Another bonus was that Morgan changed her physical form to fit that world. 

Hence why, in the middle of the Pride Lands, Morgan stood tall as a mongoose. 

Well not super tall. She was barely 20 inches tall.

But, ya know, mongoose.  _ Lion King _ . All was good.

The first thing she did when coming to the Pride Lands was searched for a body of water. Call her vain, but she wanted to know what she looked like.

It took her two hours to find a watering hole. Or at least Morgan  _ thinks _ it was two hours. Reading time was hard when you didn’t have a sundial, and all you had to tell time was how long you could look at the sun without losing your eyesight.

Morgan looked over her new persona. She had light tan fur, the kind that wasn’t _ exactly _ brown but not exactly yellow either. A faded almost ugly brown that looked like a mop. Morgan looked down at her tail, the huge thing that it was. It was more than half the size of her body!

Her eyes were the same, though. The still amber eyes that she’d had in every world so far. As an FBI agent, college starter, Mahina-

She splashed the water with a paw, dispelling the image from her mind of the past.

There wasn’t time for those kind of thoughts now.

She had things to do- places to see.

 

==HOP==

 

Morgan first went to look at the mini-Pride Rock. It was the home of Timon and Pumbaa in  _ Lion King 1 ½.  _ She had wanted to see it. She wasn’t going to miss it because of something so silly as ‘being too early’.

Timon and Pumbaa were already happily moved in by that point. Morgan gasped at the sight, quickly hiding behind a nearby tree before she could be spotted. Thankfully neither noticed- or even knew there was something to be noticed. Morgan could hear them from her hiding spot, arguing about what bugs to eat for dinner. It was great!

Morgan looked in the distance, seeing Pride Rock in it’s glory. She knew she’d find Mufasa there. Along with Simba, Nala, Sarabi, and Zazu. Well also Scar but that was a given. Morgan wasn’t looking forward to seeing him. Ever.

There was another that she should see, just a quick visit. She wondered...wondered really hard...if it was going to lead to something greater.

 

==HOP==

 

She ran to Rafiki’s tree. It was funny to Morgan. She never ran that much before, not at Home or at...any home she’d had before. Running around the African savannah was no easy trek for a human.

Apparently for a mongoose it was fine.

By the time she made it, night had fallen. There were no lights up in the tree to say if Rafiki was awake. Morgan wasn’t willing to push. She wouldn’t even risk calling out into the night, breaking the silence of the savannah so she could have a conversation with-

“Why hello there!”

“AH!”

Morgan jumped back. She landed on her back paws, holding up the front in a fighting stance. She whacked the thing that snuck up on her in the nose. And it would’ve hit if Rafiki hadn’t ducked out of the way just in time.

Rafiki was laughing from the bushes now. Morgan groaned, lowering her fists in relief. She should have known better, honestly. The mandrill was known for this kind of thing.

“Well, who are you, coming way out here to my tree without saying hi?” Rafiki asked.

Morgan narrowed her eyes on him. She was wary. As anyone would be when someone had a giant stick they hit people with repeatedly. “Mosi.” She answered.

Rafiki hummed, leaning on the stick.

“It is!” Morgan defended. 

He laughed- boldly. “If you say it’s your name, then why do you defend it?” He questioned. Morgan tightened her lips. Rafiki laughed again. He swung his cane around. Morgan ducked to avoid being whacked by it’s swing. “Come, come! There is something you must see!”

 

==HOP==

 

Rafiki had taken her to the jungle.

She loved it.

She wanted to climb the trees.

She wanted to swing on the vines.

She wanted to make a hammock out of leaves, looking up in the night sky.

She wanted to talk to Hero for hours about which Lion King constellation’s would be in the sky.

She wanted to sit in the hot spring with Stitch. 

She and Pops could cannonball off the waterfall.

Tears were on her face before Morgan realized it.

“I can’t stay here.” Morgan whimpered. She wiped the tears out of her eyes. “I see- I look all over and all I can see is  _ them _ .”

Rafiki came up by Morgan’s side. He leaned against his stick- gazing down at the young mongoose. “A good reason to stay then, I should say!”

Morgan shook her head. She grabbed the fur on her head, tugging it. “No it’s not!” She sobbed. “I- it hurts to think about them!”

He bonked her on the head with the staff.

“Why did I not see that coming?!” Morgan complained. She rubbed her knuckles- they’d been hit by the gourds on the staff.

Rafiki laughed. 

Morgan grunted in annoyance.

“Don’t worry, Mosi. It’s all part of Hakuna Matata!”

 

==HOP==

 

She ended up staying.

Rafiki had set it up like a fucking challenge.

Okay. Morgan may not like the idea of remembering her ohana all day, and don’t call her dramatic, but she would rather die than lose a challenge.

 

==HOP==

 

Morgan lived in the jungle for two weeks before Timon and Pumbaa crashed it. She’d made her own hammock by then of course. She ended up making them bunk beds. She hadn’t realized it until she was sleeping underneath it. Still. Good hammock-bunk beds.

She walked up to where they had crashed. They didn’t twitch at her arrival. She tilted her head. Was she supposed to wake them up? Was that what happened now?

She was about to poke one of them when Timon hopped awake. Morgan ran to hide in a bush.

“Uhh!” Timon complained, cracking his back. Morgan grimaced while he cracked the bones in his body back into place. “Aw well! It’s too bad we never found that perfect place. Why’d we ever listen to that stupid monkey?”

Pumbaa sat up. Morgan stared at him through the bush as he gawked at her jungle. “I think maybe you’re giving up too soon, Timon.”

Timon- however- wasn’t listening. “Beyond what you see.” Morgan giggled softly when Pumbaa made Timon look at the jungle. “Huh...”

“Remember that place I told you about?” Pumbaa reminded.

“Forget _ your _ place, look at what I found!” Timon cheered. Morgan rolled her eyes, fondly. “Talk about ‘beyond what you see’! Pumbaa, this is our dream home!” He ran around the jungle, showing off the various things. Morgan was surprised he hadn’t spotted her yet. “Dramatic views! Your very own porch swing!” He splashed in nearby warm pool. Pumbaa joined him- which quickly filled the pool with bubbles. Morgan wished she had chlorine. Could chlorine even clean up a mess left by Pumbaa? “Hot tub and spa!” He ran out of that, pulling open a tree. “Well-stocked cupboard!”

Morgan grimaced when he ate a bug. She’d been able to get by with a lot of fruit, and the occasional hunted squirrel.

She followed them as Pumbaa set about cooking a feast of bugs. Timon was resting in the pool. She tilted her head. Morgan climbed up on a branch, eating a piece of fruit she found before they arrived.

“We found it- the perfect life!” Timon cheered.

Pumbaa put on a chef’s hat. Morgan thought it was cute. She should make an apron out of leaves and vines. She could do it- she’d lived on an island for ten years, she could make stuff out of plants! “I’ll just whip something up.”

“He had the perfect name for it too...” Timon mused.

While they both went back and forth, Morgan finished the fruit in her paw. She had a half-formed idea in her mind for a dramatic entrance.

Finally her golden opportunity came.

Pumbaa had started to dance. Timon was scratching his head, trying to remember it.

Morgan hopped down from her branch. She landed right in front of the pool. “Hakuna Matata.”

They both screamed. Like full on scream. Fur spiking up and eyes bugging out, screaming.

Morgan laughed at it. 

Timon stopped screaming first. “Who are you?!”

“Mosi.” Morgan introduced herself, with a dramatic bow.

Pumbaa stopped screaming by then. “What were you saying?”

“That doesn’t matter Pumbaa- she’s crashing our pad!”

“Technically you crashed mine.” Morgan corrected. “Because the ‘monkey’ brought me here two weeks ago.”

“Ha! Prove it!” Timon pointed at Morgan.

Morgan pointed in the direction of her swinging hammocks, which included a small table for eating and a chair.

Timon drooped. “Double prove it!”

She pointed to a chair she’d built beside the pool- which resembled a lounge chair in a pool.

“Oh.” Timon frowned now. “Guess you’ll be wanting us to leave.” Timon started to pull himself out of the water.

“No.” Morgan scrunched up her nose in confusion. “That’s why I said Hakuna Matata. It means _ ‘no worries’ _ .”

Timon and Pumbaa lit up in understanding.

 

==HOP==

 

Morgan had missed being part of a musical number. Especially the cartoon ones.

 

==HOP==

 

It was all good until night fell.

Morgan was situating herself in her hammock. She patted Hero’s Bunk before curling up to sleep.

She would have gone under if not for the sudden dip in the hammock above her. Her eyes shot open.

“Ah!” Timon sighed in relaxation. He stretched out in the hammock. He began to rock it side to side. “And a hammock too! You really did think of everything, Mosi-AAAAHHHH”

Morgan had pushed him out.

When he hit the dirt, Morgan jumped after him.

Timon’s screaming had woken up Pumbaa. Morgan couldn’t care less.

“Whoa-whoa hey! What’s wrong?!” Timon asked. Morgan grabbed a twig, bashing Timon on the head with it. “Ow! Ow! You’re worse than the monkey! What’s the problem?”

“You don’t use that bunk!” Morgan snarled. She smacked Timon again. For a second, she was happy to be taller than him.

“You weren’t using it!”

“It’s not to be used!” Morgan argued.

Pumbaa stepped in between Morgan and Timon. He got hit with the twig four times before Morgan noticed.

She turned to snarl at him. Pumbaa responded by patting Morgan on the head. She stopped snarling.

“What’s wrong, Mosi?” Pumbaa asked.

Morgan felt tears burning her eyes in shame. She looked down at the grass. The twig fell by her feet. “That’s Hero’s Bunk.” She supplied.

“Hey, I’m a hero!” Timon argued. Pumbaa glared at him to shut him up. “What? I can be a hero!”

“Not _ that _ kind of hero.” Morgan mumbled. She rubbed her arm, ashamed. She could feel herself starting to cry now. No escaping it. No ‘Hakuna Matatas’ could fix this empty feeling of loss in her chest. “Th-That was his name. Hero. My...he was my...” Whatever Morgan was going to call him- friend, brother, Ohana- became lost to her sobs.

She fell to her knees, sobbing harder. She hid her face beneath her hands as she cried harder.

She only barely stopped herself from breaking the hand that touched her shoulder. Instead she grabbed it tightly.

“H-hey it’s okay!” Timon assured. “I’m sorry!”

“No one sleeps in that bunk except Hero.” Morgan stated. “It’s- It’s not right.”

“Okay.” Timon agreed. “Okay- not alright. Not a good idea. Very very very  _ bad _ idea. What was I even thinking? Not Hakuna Matata. Can you let go of my hand now?!”

Morgan did.

Pumbaa stepped in, while Timon was bemoaning about the pain in his hand. “Say, uh, Mosi? Could you help me set up a place for Timon to sleep? I think he’d like a good bed.”

“Let him sleep on your stomach.” Morgan suggested, her voice tight as she got herself back to her wobbling feet. “He’ll like the motions and the warmth.”

Pumbaa perked. “That’s a good idea! Right Timon?”

“What?! No way!” Timon complained. Pumbaa bonked him on the head. He pointed to Morgan, who was wiping tears off her cheeks. “You know what Pumbaa, I’ve got an idea! Why don’t I sleep on your stomach! Genius idea, right?!”

Morgan couldn’t help but laugh tiredly. She sniffled one last time, climbing back up to her hammock.

“Goodnight, Mosi!” Pumbaa cheered as he walked Timon over to where they would sleep. “Sleep tight!”

“Dream of bedbugs tonight.” Morgan mused. She hopped into her bunk again, curling in the middle of it.

“Hey, that’s a good dream!” Pumbaa laughed.

Soon the jungle was loud with Pumbaa and Timon’s snoring.

Morgan patted the bunk above her’s again. When there was no response, she whimpered.

_ “A wiki wiki mai lohi lohi.” _ She breathed, so low that you would have to strain to hear it even it you slept in the hammock above.  _ “Lawe mai I ko papa he’e nalu.”  _ She curled tighter on herself, hoping that when she slept she wouldn’t see them again.  _ “Flyin by on the Hawaiian roller coaster ride.” _

 

==HOP==

 

Another two weeks had gone by. Morgan was adjusting to having Timon and Pumbaa there every night. Some nights were just...easier than others. Timon had never tried to touch the other hammock again. Neither asked more about  _ ‘Mosi’s’  _ past before coming here. 

They asked few questions. Morgan was happy with the _ ‘Hakuna Matata’  _ mindset.

She enjoyed singing along to the song as she swam in the nearby lake.

She enjoyed swinging from the vines in contests against Pumbaa to see who could go farther.

She enjoyed scaring Timon by  _ ‘accidentally’  _ sneaking up behind him.

Everything was going smooth.

Until they tried porcupine bowling.

 

==HOP==

 

“OWW!” Timon whined.

Morgan was pulling a quill from her arm. She barely twitched, flicking it away.

Pumbaa pulled one out with his mouth. Morgan praised that she’d been given opposable thumbs. “Guess bowling for porcupines- wasn’t the best idea, huh?”

“I thought it was fun!” Morgan cheered.

“You thought bobbing for snapping turtles was fun too.” Timon complained. “Because they kept biting my face!”

Morgan shrugged, giggling. “It was funny.”

Timon narrowed his eyes at her. Then he screamed, as Pumbaa pulled out another quill.

Morgan giggled again. As she did, she saw the buzzards.

“Oh...no.”

“-gonna leave a mark. Hey, Timon, Mosi, look! Buzzards!” He bumped Timon, who was starting forlorn at the last quill. “What do you say, one more round?”

“I vote it!” Morgan cheered, waving her hand.

“Of course you do. I have places on my body that aren’t injured yet.” Timon snarked. Morgan shrugged, like  _ ‘yeah, and?’ _

They ran out to the buzzards. Morgan was screaming. She bashed the birds on the head in delight. They screeched as they flew away. Morgan fell to the dirt, she was laughing so hard.

“I love it! Bowling for buzzards! Gets ‘em every time.” Timon laughed.

“Uh-oh. Hey Timon, Mosi. You better come look. I think it’s still alive.” Pumbaa tapped Simba with a hoof. 

“Yeewgh!” Timon grimaced.

“Cool!” Morgan cheered.

“All righty, what have we got here?” Timon walked up to the lion. He quickly dashed behind Morgan. “Jeez, it’s a lion! Run Pumbaa! Move it!”

“You’re not telling  _ me  _ to run.”

“You’d kill it for us!” Timon argued. “Come on Pumbaa!”

“I’m not  _ killing it  _ for you!”

“Hey, Timon. It’s just a little lion.” Pumbaa cooed. The sap. “Look at him. He’s so cute, and all alone! Can we keep him?”

“Ooh! Ooh! I know what he’s gonna say!” Morgan cheered. 

“Pumbaa, are you nuts?! We’re talking about a lion. Lions eat guys like us.”

“I knew it!” Morgan laughed.

“But he’s so little.” Pumbaa pleaded.

“He’s gonna get bigger.” Timon argued. Even though it was almost fight.

“Maybe he’ll be on our side.” Pumbaa commented.

“A-Huh! That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. Maybe he’ll b-Hey, I got it! What if he’s on our side?” Timon stole the idea. As Morgan knew he would. “You know, having a lion around might not be such a bad idea.”

“So we keeping ‘im?” Pumbaa asked.

“Pthpt. Of course. Who’s the brains in this outfit?”

“Uhhh..”

“Me! It’s me right? I already  _ know  _ it’s me.” Morgan stated. When Timon opened his mouth to argue, Morgan bonked him on the head. “That me. In charge.”

“Yeah- whatever! Jeez, I’m fried. Let’s get out of here and find some shade.” Timon complained, rubbing the spot on his head.

Pumbaa picked up Simba, carrying him in his tusks. They brought him into the tree line, where there was heavy shade. Morgan enjoyed shade. Closest thing the savannah had to air conditioning.

After being in the shade for awhile, Simba slowly blinked awake.

“You okay, kid?” Timon asked.

“I guess so.” Simba remarked, drowsy.

“You nearly died.” Pumbaa explained dramatically.

“I saved you.” Timon boasted. Morgan and Pumbaa glared. “Well, uh, Pumbaa and Mosi helped...a little.”

“Thanks for your help.” Simba replied. He was still upset. He got his feet, walking back towards the desert.

“Hey, where you going?” Pumbaa asked. He jumped in Simba’s way.

“Nowhere.” Simba answered flatly. He walked around Pumbaa.

“Gee. He looks blue.” Pumbaa remarked.

“I’d say brownish-gold.” Timon 

“You’re an idiot.” Morgan deadpanned.

“What?! I’m just telling the truth!” Timon argued.

“He meant  _ depressed. _ ”

Morgan ran up to Simba. She plopped herself in front of him, giving him a beaming wide smile that she didn’t feel.

Simba gave her a confused look. “Umm...could you move?”

“Nope! Don’t wanna.” Morgan crosses her arms over her chest as Pumbaa walked up.

“Kid, what’s eatin’ ya?” Pumbaa asked.

“Nothing- he’s at the top of the food chain!   
The food cha-haain!” Timon laughed. Morgan glared. Timon stopped laughed. “Ah heh- Ahem. So, where you from?”

“Who cares? I can’t go back.” Simba replies, forlorn.

“That’s great! Now you’re outcasts like us!” Morgan cheered. 

“What’cha do, kid?” Timon asked.

“Something terrible. But I don’t wanna talk about it.” Simba stated.

“Good. We don’t wanna hear about it.” Timon stated. He started back towards the jungle. 

“Come on Timon.” Pumbaa pulled Timon back to the group. The warthog beamed at Simba. “Anything we can do?”

“Not unless you can change the past.”

“You know, kid, in times like this my buddy Timon here says ‘You got to put your behind in your past’.” Pumbaa comforter. Morgan facepalmed. lNo. No. No. I mean-”

“Amateur. Lie down before you hurt yourself.” Timon advised.

“They’re both this stupid all the time.” Morgan informed Simba. “You learn to live with it.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s either that or go insane.” Morgan stated.

“It’s ‘You got to put your past behind you’.” Timon interrupted over Morgan. “Look, kid. Bad things happen, and you can’t do anything about it, right?”

“Right.” Simba answered

“Wrong!” Timon shouted sternly. “When the world turns its back on you, you turn your back on the world!”

“Well, that’s not what I was taught.” Simba mused.

“Then maybe you need a new lesson.” Timon grabbed Simba by the shoulder. “Repeat after me.  _ Hakuna Matata _ .”

“What?”

“Ha-ku-na Ma-ta-ta. It means no worries.” Timon explained

“Hakuna Matata!” Simba tried it.

And lived by it ever since.

 

==HOP==

 

Again, a real probably only showed the first time Simba saw the hammocks.

He’d been staying there in the jungle for a few days. He was still getting used to eating bugs, and being welcomed someplace. 

Still. One afternoon, he saw the hammock and thought-  _ that looks like a nice place to rest.  _

Timon found him an hour later. Simba was snoring loudly.

He yelled in panic. He climbed up to the boy, shaking him awake.

Simba complained. “Tim _ on! _ I’m  _ tired!  _ Let me  _ sleep!” _

“Yeah, yeah kid! You can sleep anywhere  _ except this hammock!” _ Timon tried pulling the cub out of the hammock.

Simba groaned. “Why  _ not _ ?”

“Hey Timon! Hey Simba!” Pumbaa cheered as he walked up. “What are you- oh no.”

“A little help Pumbaa?!” Timon calmed down. “Where is she?”

“Getting fruit!” Pumbaa answered. “I think...”

“Gah!” Timon whacked Simba again he tried to push the lion cub out of the hammock again. The lion cub pushed him away.

Simba huffed. He sat up in the hammock as Timon landed in Morgan’s. “I don’t see the problem.”

Timon laughed, dryly. “You will if Mosi sees you in that! I can still feel the bruises she left!”

“That might be because she hit you this morning in vine swinging.” Simba argued.

“He’s got you the, Timon.” Pumbaa remarked. Timon cried in outrage. “But...you should really climb down, Simba! I got a  _ bad  _ feeling.”

Morgan came back at that moment. The first thing she did was scream, like someone had stabbed her. Or killed her father with wildebeests.

The three males turned to her. Timon and Pumbaa yelped in fear. Simba was concerned for her, rather than himself. A poor decision.

“Mosi?!” Simba hopped down the hammock. He climbed down the tree. “What’s wro-”

Morgan grabbed a nearby fallen branch. She started hitting Simba with it. 

“You!”  _ *ow!* _ “Don’t!”  _ *ow!* _ “Touch!”  _ *ow!  _ “That!”

“Stop it!” Simba complained.

“That’s Hero’s bunk!” Morgan screeched. “You don’t that-  _ don’t you ever touch it!” _

“He didn’t know, kid, he didn’t know!” Pumbaa defended.

“I tried to stop him!” Timon added. “I did more than Pumbaa!”

“She’s still- _ ow _ -hitting me!” Simba complained. He bashed away the branch with his paw. A pro of being stronger than his new friends. “What’s your problem, Mosi?!”

“Hero’s Bunk!” Morgan hissed.

“Who’s Hero? Ow! Stop hitting me!”

“Hero was  _ everything  _ to me! He slept above me  _ always _ ! That’s why he gets  _ that  _ bunk!”

“Why build it if he never uses it?”

“Because he’s  _ dead _ !” Morgan raged. And just as suddenly as she raged, she stopped. She looked down at the grass. Her voice became heavy. “He died.”

Simba twisted up his face in sympathy. He understood losing someone important. He would see his father dying in his nightmares for a long time. “And that means you can hit me?! I didn’t know!”

“It’s all I have left of him!” Morgan ranted.

“At least you didn’t kill him!” Simba ranted back.

Morgan stopped. 

Then she started sobbing.  

And Simba too. Not strong, just enough for the others to notice.

Which of course made Timon panic.

Morgan ran off, into the trees and away. Simba panicked. 

“Wait! Mosi, come back!” Simba called out. He ran after her.

Pumbaa ran to Timon. He gasped. “What do we do, Timon?!”

“I don’t know!” Timon argued. “Jeez. Parenting is so much  _ work _ .”

 

==HOP==

 

Simba found Morgan hours later at the top of the waterfall.

She was kneeling on the edge. Simba panicked. He ran up to her, before seeing she wasn’t planning to jump over. She was still crying.

“Mosi?” Simba called out over the roar of the waterfall.

She sobbed again, wiping at her eyes were her arm.

“Did...did you..” Simba wasn’t sure what his question was going to ask. Did you mean it? Do you kill him? Did you need something? Did you run away the same reason I did? Did you miss him like you missed the sun when it went down?

_ Did you wish it had been you instead? _

Morgan sniffled.

Simba walked closer. Close enough that if Morgan moved, he could pull her back. He wasn’t going to let someone else fall because of him.

“Mosi-”

“I didn’t  _ mean  _ to.” Morgan cried. “We were just...and then we were both...I got up and he didn’t. He would’ve lived if I hadn’t had that  _ stupid  _ idea.”

Simba walked up beside her. He sat down. He watched her cry. He had no idea what to do. He wasn’t good with...feelings.

“Now my brother is dead  _ because of me _ .” Morgan sobbed.

Before she could dissolve into sobs, Simba thought of a quick way to help. “I killed my father.”

Morgan paused. She continued to sniffle, she just didn’t break down in tears.

“I was playing in a ravine.” Simba admitted. “And a herd of wildebeests came. My dad- he came to save me. He...he didn’t...” Simba felt tears burning down his eyes, searing his cheeks as they fell to the grass. “Everyone blamed me for it. They should. If I hadn’t been playing there, Dad would still be alive.”

Morgan almost said something. 

Who was she kidding? She was young and stupid. Of  _ course _ she said something.

“Or you’d be dead too.” Simba turned to her. Morgan shrugged, helplessly. “I just mean...you know...you said he saved your life.” She began twiddling her thumbs. “I mean...that was nice.”

Simba clicked his tongue, not believing.

“You wouldn’t have met us.”

That, Simba had to concede, was a good point. 

Morgan walked away from the edge. She pulled Simba in for a hug.

 

==HOP==

 

A lot of things happened after that.

Some good.

Some bad.

Some were both.

Morgan survived them all.

Even if she didn’t want it.

Sometimes  _ because  _ she didn’t want it.

But she made it through.


End file.
